CHAPTER XXXII.
ENSIGN LAWE'S MISSION.
Shortly after the renowned adventure with the Stygian Ram, Ensign Lawe had been sent upon a mission to Governor Wille. He had been told to spare no effort to arouse the Governor from his indifference to Brownie perils and sufferings, and bring him to their help. "Take all the time you need," added Bruce, "and don't let us see your face until you can bring from Wille a fixed decision, Yea or Nay."
These were hard instructions; but the Ensign was used to facing difficulties, and overcoming them, too. He therefore rode away, with a few trusty troopers, determined to succeed if success were possible. Arrived at the Mansion he found preparations afoot for a grand company in honor of the distinguished Major-General Fleisch. Many people had been invited, and when evening came the house and grounds were thronged. There were Parson Prettyman and his wife, Senator Wirepull, the Honorable Mr. Splurge, M.C., Mr. Shearall the rich banker, Mr. Shortweight the wealthy merchant, Lawyers Grip and Gab, Drs. Sugarcoat and Skindeep, Squire Muddle, Mayor Sponge, and Messrs. Taxem and Robb of the City Council. There were, to be sure, some most worthy people besides, but the above seemed to be favorites with Governor Wille, and to them and the great General Fleisch he showed particular attentions. There was no end of merrymaking. A band played beautiful music from a rustic stand in front of the hall door. Chinese lanterns hung upon trees and shrubbery, and these, with the light of the full moon, made the grounds look like a scene in fairyland.
Amidst all this splendor and gaiety the Pixies kept on spreading their tents upon the lawn. Every now and then, indeed, some of the company would overturn a tent and send its occupants fleeing into their holes among the roots. But that is a matter which Pixies count upon, and therefore they only grumbled and got to work again. Indeed they were quite proud of the whole affair.
"Ho! Brother Cito," said Captain Saltus of the Skirmishers. "Isn't this a grand celebration of our victory?"
"That is it!" answered Cito; "a regular jubilee. Good luck to Governor Ville, and confusion to all Brownies!"
"Humph!" growled Heady, "they're a pack of human fools! And you're little better for thinking that they care for our victories."
"Let those laugh who win," thought Ensign Lawe, who was hidden in the rose bush just above the group, and overheard these remarks. "However, there will be little chance to forward my mission to-night. The Governor has given himself up wholly to pleasuring that big general, and will have a heavy ear for Brownie complaints and petitions."
He sat on the bush and swung himself to and fro, and listened to the strains of music, the hum of conversation, the clatter of plates and goblets, until the small hours of the night had come. Then he saw Wille and Dido go off wearily to their bed-chamber, and wondered, "Shall I disturb them? No! I will wait until they are refreshed by sleep, and will appeal to them in the brightness of the new morning."
As the day began to break Ensign Lawe awoke. He peeped from beneath the leafy canopy under which he had slept sound and dry. Over the lawn the white tents of the Pixies were spread far and wide. Squads and companies of busy workers were rapidly pushing on the encampment to the border of the South Walk, and to the Promenade under the west window.
Fig. 139.—The Web of Dictyna the Lacemaker.
"I can't stand this!" cried the Ensign. "Ho! Brownies, awake! Hi! ponies, up! Shake the dew off your wings!" He leaped upon his own nag, and followed by his dragoons, flew across to the Virginia creeper that ran over the west wall and twined above the windows of the chamber where Wille and Dido slept.
Fig. 140.—Madam Lacemaker Tries to Capture Ensign Lawe.
It was the Ensign's hap to alight upon a leaf whereon a small and rather dainty but vigorous Pixinee, named Madam Dictyna the Lacemaker, had built a snug pavilion. Spite had set her as an especial sentinel upon my lady Dido; and when Lawe and his dragoons made such a rude entrance upon her domain she was sorely vexed. Shaking her lace frills and skirts, she ran out from her tent and threatened the Brownies with high bluster and rage.
But Lawe would not permit her to be attacked just then; he had other work to do, to which the Lacemaker's presence only spurred him forward. The party left their ponies outside, and crept through the slats of the closed blind into the room. They mounted the bed-post, climbed atop of the carved headboard, and began drumming with their feet and spears upon the solid walnut.
"Rat-a-tat! Rat-a-tat! Tat, tat, tat!"
Neither of the sleepers stirred.
"Louder, lads, louder!" shouted the Ensign. "Rat-a-tat! Rat-a-tat! Tat, tat!"
Still the weary couple slept.
"Stop!" called Lawe. "No use! Late hours—late supper—champagne! We must wait and try something better. Away!"
As they descended the bed and scampered back to the window they were greeted by a loud, prolonged nasal serenade from the unconscious pair.
"Puff! pu-ff-ff!—oo,—haw!" breathed Dido quite gently, indeed, after a fashion which goes with some folk by the name of "boiling mush."
"Oo—oogh—ha—aw—hogh!" was the answering snore from the Governor's nose, with a tremendous force upon the "hogh!" In fact, it came out with such a sharp explosion, that Wille's head flew forward, and he awoke.
"Wife," said he sleepily—"I say, wife!" and here he gave Dido a little tap under the chin. "Don't snore so loud, please! Why, I—I—really you made a terrible racket. I thought at first that some one was pounding the bedstead!"
Dido was quite awake now, and answered indignantly, "Snore indeed! You'd better talk! Pounding the bedstead! It's too bad!" And thereupon the little lady turned over sharply toward the wall, and composed herself to sleep.
However, the Governor had lost the benefit of Dido's speech; for ere she had finished he was sound asleep, and snoring almost as vigorously as before. Meanwhile the Brownies had returned to their rose-bush retreat ignorant of the amusing scene for which their little feet were responsible.
"To-morrow," said Lawe, "we must succeed. If we can once get the Governor to see, in the early morning, while the dew lies upon their tent-tops and reveals them what a vast camp of our enemies holds our old and rightful quarters, I am sure that he will clear out the usurpers at once!"
"Aye; but how shall we bring that about?" said Corporal Trust.
"We must have help. Come, lads, mount and away!" answered Lawe.
He led his troopers straight toward the orchard. Over the tree-tops they flew; on, up, until at last he halted the party on one of the spreading limbs of Lone Aspen. There the Ensign dismounted and approaching the Lone Aspen the first object upon which his eyes fell was a round, horizontal snare of Uloborus, spread within the hollow of the trunk, where the great gateway opened at the foot. His anger was highly inflamed at the sight, and he forgot his mission in the eager purpose to rout this foe lurking at the doorway of his friend, Madam Breeze. He ran hastily forward and smote the web with his sword until it fell to the ground. Uloborus, who was stretched beneath it on a ribbon-like hammock, tumbled down with the ruins of his orb; and thereat Ensign Lawe fell upon him with his sword. But the Pixie, thinking discretion the better part of valor, dodged the strokes, and shaking himself loose from the fragments of his late beautiful net, ran away at top of his speed, and plunged into the thick grass around the roots of the tree. Lawe did not think well to follow; and his wrath being somewhat vented, turned again to the errand on which he had come. He climbed the grass-rope ladder stretched along the trunk, and having reached the upper window at the great knot-hole, blew a shrill blast upon his bugle. The echoes rolled up and down the hollow trunk.
"Oo—oo—oo!"
The round mellow voice of Madam Breeze answered the call, and a moment thereafter the merry Elf bobbed her rubicund face out of the window.
"Hah! who is there? Brownies again, I warrant—Wheeze! More forts to smash? Ho, ho, ho! Why, my sides are aching yet with that last bout. Ho, ho!—Hoogh!" It seemed more likely that the good lady's sides were aching with her hearty laughter.
Fig. 141.—"A Round, Horizontal Snare of Uloborus, Spread Within the Hollow of the Trunk."
"Didn't we batter them, though?" she ran on. "Down went tents! Down went barricades! Down went fort—Hoogh!" Here Madam gave one of her little coughs. "Well, no, not exactly that, neither. That was too much for us. But no matter! The vile old den got its deserts anyhow. Ho, ho! Phaugh! And how's Spite the Spy? Has his breath improved any? Wheeze—Dear me! I doubt if he ever scrubs his teeth. Think of a pure, sweet Breeze-body like myself having to wrestle with such as he! Don't ask me to! No, no! It's too funny, ho, ho!—Wheeze—hoogh! You see my asthma's no better—Wheeze!"
All this time the Elf had been seated on a broad leaf swinging like a pendulum, and gazing into the clouds. She suddenly stopped and looked into the Ensign's face.
"Dear me!" she cried, "I—I—and so it's not Bruce this time? The rogue—the scamp—the—ah!—Wheeze! How could he dare to deceive me so?—Hoogh!"
For one minute Madam Breeze sat still, actually for a whole minute! The fact is, she was just a trifle afraid of Ensign Lawe, the only one of all the Brownies, by the way, who ever dashed her high spirits a particle. During that moment the good Elf looked as sober as she could then threw her heels up and her head down, and swung away furiously for a few seconds.
"Oho! It's you, is it? Well, things must be serious when Lawe comes a-gossiping to Madam Breeze. Well, well! Cheer up, cheer up, Mr. Sobersides!
"Shall we, inclined to sadness,
Strike melancholy's string?
Oh, no! we'll tune to gladness
And merrily, merrily sing
Tra, la!"
The Elf trilled these words to a sprightly strain, and wound up with a laugh, a wheeze and a cough. By this time her touch of seriousness had vanished, and she was swinging as lustily as ever.
"There now, Mr. Lawe. You see I'm composed and ready for business. Go on with your story. Bad news?—of course! Yes, yes—hoogh! I know something about it—bad! There,—stand still a minute, can't you?—and go on!"
Lawe had stood silent and motionless, all this while, waiting for Madam Breeze to settle herself. But as he saw that this was not likely to happen, he began the story of Brownie disasters, and after many interruptions reached the matter he had in hand.
"Yes, yes! I see it all," said the Elf. "Not another word—it is all right. Here, Whirlit, Keener! Put my ponies Vesper and Vacuum into the chariot—quick!"
The word had scarcely been spoken ere the two pages returned leading a House Martin and a Meadow Lark, who were harnessed to a maple leaf mounted upon wheels of thistledown. The stem of the leaf served as the tongue of the chariot, and the palm of the leaf was bent over at the apex and bent up at the base, so as to make a very pretty fairy coach indeed.
The lark's name was Vesper, the martin's Vacuum, and Madam Breeze had taken the liberty of nicknaming them "Vesp" and "Vac."
"Come; in with you!" cried the good Elf, and suddenly contracting herself into the very smallest compass, as she was wont at times to do, she bounced into the chariot. The Ensign followed. Whirlit and Keener mounted the bird ponies, and waited for the word of command.
"To the cove. Go!" shouted Madam Breeze; and away the party went over orchard and meadow, over town, bridge and river. They stopped at the summit of a hill that stands at the mouth of the cove, whose brow has been worn by frosts, heats and storms of centuries, until it stands up a bald cliff. The naked rock below has a rough likeness to a human face, and the fringe of bushes underneath gives the idea of a vast beard. The top of the cliff is covered with trees that look in the far distance like tufts of frizzly hair upon the Giantstone's poll. From the midst of these rose (when these records were made) two pine trees. Their tall trunks were quite bare, their bushy branches interlocked closely, and thus was left a goodly sized opening, through which at that time of the year the sun was first seen of mornings coming down into the valley. The fairies called this the Gate of the Sun, and it was to visit four sister Elves who kept this gate that Madam Breeze had now come. The gate stood wide open, for the sunshine was already gone through to the town and hills beyond. In a snug little cave in the limestone front of the hill, a sort of "mouth" to the Giantstone's face, the four Elves lived.
Lawe followed as briskly as possible, swung himself from bough to bough of the overhanging shrubbery, landed upon a narrow ledge, and found his way to the mouth of the Cave of the Clouds. Madam Breeze, now expanded in bodily form to goodly size, had already entered and was bustling around the place calling for the sisters.
"Hi! Cirrus! Ho, Stratus! Here, here—where are you?—Wheeze!"
The dead dry leaves whirled around and around as the merry Elf called, and the echoes answered her voice.
"Ho—e—oh! Cumulus! Nimbus! Can't you hear?"
The bustling Elf had no cause to be impatient, for she had scarcely spoken ere four forms slowly rose in the shadows of the inner cave, and began to move deliberately toward the light. The first advanced with airy footstep, shaking about her face a cloud of long curling locks, almost white. She was dressed in a white robe, covered with trellis-work patterns, inwrought with thin silvery streaks. This was Elf Cirrus.
The second sister was a plump, sober-looking Elf, whose hair was gathered in woolly puffs upon her round head, and was a curious mixture of white and black. Her robe was covered with figures of cones, hemispheres and white-topped mountains, which figures were touched here and there with many bright colors. This was Cumulus.
Elf Stratus wore a grayish robe flounced with bands of divers colors, many of them edged with bright silver and golden fringe like the rays of the setting sun. Her dark hair was worn smooth, and was crossed by a band of purple ribbons that girdled the crown.
Nimbus, the last of the four sisters, was a gloomy-looking dame, with a kind look in her eyes nevertheless, and a great purse in her hand, through the meshes of which yellow pieces of gold were seen. She was dressed in black, had a gray cloak with fringed edges thrown over her shoulders, and a dainty lace cap upon her head.
"Oho! here you are, then!" cried Madam Breeze as the Elves came forward. They all bowed as she spoke, and stood quite still when she ceased. Indeed, the sisters seemed to be curiously affected by Madam Breeze's voice; for all the while that she was speaking they gently swayed their bodies, and moved back and forth through the cave.
"Come now," said Madam Breeze, "you must be quite good-natured, you know. I have a very, very important duty for you. I want to serve my good friends the Brownies—wheeze! Here, Ensign, let me present you. These are the Cloud Elves." Lawe bowed gravely, and the sisters each made that graceful and dignified courtesy which our grandmothers were taught to be the proper thing on such occasions.
"This is what I want," continued Madam Breeze; "to-morrow morning—wheeze!—do you hear me? To-morrow morning I want to have quite clear. Keep the Gate of the Sun wide open—hoogh! Wide, I say; for we have some good work for my Lord Sol to do over there at Hillside. Stratus, do you hear, lass?—wheeze! I'm most afraid of you. You're such a regular night owl, and affect the manners of—hoogh!—of those silly humans who wake all night and go to bed at sunrise. But, mark what I say—wheeze!—you must stay at home this night. Not a flounce, not a frill, not a—hoogh!—not a—wheeze!—nothing—(confusion seize this cough!)—of all your fine toggery must be spread between the sun and the gate to-morrow morn. Do you all understand?"
Madam Breeze puffed, and bounded about in a nervous way, mightily stirred up by the necessity for making such a long speech. The sisters bowed several times, and at last Nimbus, who seemed to speak for the others, answered in a deep voice that rolled through the cave and sounded like low distant thunder: "We will keep the gate open, good Mistress Breeze. You know we are always ready to oblige you. Your pleasure shall be our law."
"Good—good! Many thanks. Don't forget. If you do—bless your hearts!—I'll blow up Brother Tempest and have him tear your fine robes into tatters. Good-bye. Come, Ensign, let us away—wheeze!" Once more squeezing herself into scant space, she got into the chariot.
"Where next?" asked Lawe, when the top of the cliff had been regained.
"Where, where? Jump in—quick! Whirlit, Keener, you rogues, where are you? Oh, you're at your post, are you?—wheeze! All right. Go!—hoogh!"
"Go? Whither?" cried Whirlit, leaping upon Vesper's back and gathering up the reins.
"To be sure! I had forgotten; all owing to that vile asthma! To the falls in the cove. Away!"
A beautiful stream runs through the cove. As it approaches the river, it hugs the base of the southern hill, enters a short ravine, midway of which it tumbles over a rock ten or twelve feet high, making a pretty waterfall. The sides of the ravine around the cascade and pool are covered with ferns. Thrifty young hemlocks stretch their tops upward and interlock their green branches above.
"What a charming spot! what a cool retreat!" cried Lawe, as the chariot dashed through an opening in the foliage, through which the sunlight stole and rested in a golden plate upon the bosom of the pool.
The face of the pool was rippled and dimpled as Madam's chariot stopped upon a flat stone at the edge of the cascade. The waterfall, too, raised a louder splash and broke its broad sheet into many ribbons and tongues of water in welcome of the good Elf. Vesper and Vacuum dipped their beaks thereinto and having kissed the pool's face, threw up their heads and drank to the health of Cove Fall and its people.
"Wait a moment," said Madam Breeze. She leaped from the chariot and ran under the fall. Presently she returned bringing with her the Fairy Dew, whom she had come to see. Lawe had never seen a more beautiful and dainty sprite. Her face and head were covered with a long white veil which, as well as her gauze robe, glistened with mimic pearls and diamonds. When she shook her head or moved her body these jewels were thrown off in little showers that shone a moment in the sunbeams, and then melted away into the earth or water. But there seemed to be none the less of them for all that. A curious instrument that somewhat resembled Scottish bagpipes, hung from her shoulders, and rested under the left arm. Every moment or two Fairy Dew pressed this instrument between her arm and side, whereupon, from a number of little tubes there would issue a cloud of spray, that settled upon the grass and leaves in minute round jewels like those which covered the Fairy's dress.
Fig. 142.—Fairy Dew at the Mouth of the Cave.
Madam Breeze presented the Ensign to the Fairy, and then in her own jerky way told the story of the Brownies' troubles. Whereat Dew was sorry and excited, and shook so many pearl drops around her that Lawe had to step beyond the circle of the shower to save himself from being drenched. That was the Fairy's way of shedding tears, it would seem.
"What I want you to do," continued the Elf, "is to be up bright and early to-morrow, and cover the lawn at Hillside with these pretty gems of yours. The Pixies—faugh!—have their tents spread out like the camp of Joshua in the plains of Moab. Sprinkle 'em well—wheeze! Make every single thread a string of dew-drops. We'll attend to the rest. What say you, my dear?—hoogh!"
"Will the Cloud Elves be at home?" asked the Fairy.
"Aye,—I've seen to that. The way'll be clear. What say you?—wheeze!"
"Oh, I must consult my husband first, you know. I can do nothing without Dewpoint. I'll run and ask him."
"Aha! you're as sweet as ever on that—wheeze!—hubby of yours. Quite—hoogh!—right! Go and consult with Dewpoint."
"May I go in with the Fairy?" asked Lawe, who was curious to see her home.
"Oh, to be sure," said Dew, "and welcome. Come in, both of you!"
"Not I, thank you," said the Madam. "Shouldn't wonder if I had taken my death of cold already—hoogh! In with you, Ensign, and hasten back."
The water in leaping over the edge of the precipice left a space of a foot or more between the falling sheet and the face of the rock. By this path Lawe passed under the fall. He noted that the light shone through the tumbling stream as through a frosted window, and made every object within visible. Above him was a roof and beside him a wall of rushing water, whose loud, steady roar, as it fell into the pool, quite drowned the sound of his voice. In a moment he was drenched with spray. The stones over which he stepped were wet and slippery, and compelled careful walking. Presently Dew stopped before an opening in the rock, and beckoned Lawe to follow her.
He entered an irregular cave which stretched backward into the cliff as far as the eye could reach. It was dark at first, but as soon as his eyes became used to the change, Lawe could see the objects around the opening, and faintly those further in. Upon the roof were hanging stalactites white as sea foam, some tapering to points and dropping like icicles, some just touching or blending with like formations called stalagmites, which rose from various spots upon the floor like marble pillars. These beautiful white formations were also spread over the walls of the cave wherever the water had trickled down, and some of them looked like serpents, or roots of trees carved in marble.
Far back toward the end of the cave Lawe saw in the dim light an old-looking Elf, who seemed to be in an uncomfortable state of mind and body. He was clad as scantily as propriety would allow, indeed was naked from the waist up. A long white beard fell upon his bare breast. He sat upon a rude Gothic chair, not unlike the big pulpit seat which the minister sits in on Sundays, which had been formed, by some freak of the cave Sprites, from the interweaving and massing of stalactites and stalagmites. He held in his hand a huge fan made from the feathers of a snow bird, with which he fanned himself so vigorously that his long beard was blown about over his chest, and his white hair was kept streaming behind him. Considering how chilly was the cave, Lawe thought this strange behavior.
"Who is that?" he asked. "He looks like Saint Nicholas in his summer retreat. Is that your husband?"
"Oh, bless you, no,—no indeed!" laughed Fairy Dew. "That is my half brother Frost. He gets little comfort in this country until winter begins to come on. He hardly ever goes out of the cave the whole summer, and keeps back there, as you see, in the coolest spot. No wonder that he plays some sorry pranks when he is released in the autumn from his long confinement."
"But he has been out in the summer, hasn't he?"
"Yes, yes," said the Elf quickly, "he did escape the guards once or twice and—dear me! I don't like to think of it! It was too bad the way he carried on. The face of the earth looked as if it had been boiled in a caldron during the night. Farmers and gardeners were well nigh ruined. They called brother the 'Black Frost,' after that trick. Though, dear me! I don't see why, for he's white enough I'm sure. But mortals are odd and contrary folk sometimes!"
Just then Dewpoint came out of a pavilion or chamber which was contrived by using stalagmites as pillars and stalactites as supports. As he stepped forth he threw back the curtain door, and exposed the interior of a snug room, lit up with fox-fire lanterns which were fixed in gnarled stalactite brackets. Lawe was about to take a closer view of this pretty room and its master, when he heard the voice of Madam Breeze calling at the mouth of the cave:
"Ho! Hello, there! Are you frozen up? Have you taken summer lodgings? Here I've been waiting for—for—hoogh!—"
"For three minutes!" answered Lawe a little impatiently, for he was curious and disappointed. Then he bethought him of his duties, and spoke up cheerfully, "I am coming! You are quite right, it is no time to loiter. Thanks for your kind prompting, friend Breeze. Farewell, good Fairy Dew, and you, Sir Dewpoint, too." He hastened out of the cave and followed the Elf to the chariot, which bowled rapidly away from the ravine.